


Re-sewn

by JustAnotherFlightlessBird



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: (in a way), Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Child Abuse, Depression, Enemies to Friends, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Members of Fall Out Boy, Panic At The Disco (Band), Popular Tyler, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-13 01:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10503579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherFlightlessBird/pseuds/JustAnotherFlightlessBird
Summary: Josh and his friends have been tormented by the entire basketball team ever since they came out of the metaphorical closet; the entire basketball team, except for the captain.Tyler Joseph, said captain, was unaware of what his team has been doing to the resident 'group of faggots' his parents had always commented distastefully about. He was unaware, until it happened right in front of him, and to say he was angry, was an understatement.orTyler Joseph had been tangled in the strings created by his parents for too long, and he didn't realize he had been tangled in them until he accidently manages to cut a string lose by sticking up for a certain group of people, and after one string comes loose, the rest follow with it.





	1. Why Do We Smile?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, I hope this is okay, I don't have very much experience writing, but I'll try my best. I'm sorry if anything I say comes off offensive, and if you have any suggestions I'd appreciate you telling me, I'm always open for some constructive criticism.

When Tyler first turned 7, he was okay at basketball. Just okay.

Except he didn't want to just be okay, he wanted to be amazing, and so he kneeled at the end of his bed that very same night and asked God to make him the greatest basketball player in the world. In the morning, he ran downstairs and straight to the basket his parents had bought. He tried to shoot, he missed. Again, he missed. Once more, a miss.

Angrily, 7 year old Tyler Joseph stomped into the kitchen where his parents were making idle conversation. His mother was cooking eggs over a stove, as his father sipped coffee at the dinner table, lazily holding a newspaper in his left hand.

"God's a lier" he huffed. Both pair of eyes snapped instantly up to Tyler in warning.

"What did you say?" His father said carefully, looking around the house as if looking to see if anyone from church was around, even if they were at home.

"I said, God is a _lier_ " Tyler bit out, arms crossed, "You said, God said he loved everyone, but when I prayed last night, my wish didn't come true"

Tyler's father makes a move to stand up, but his wifes warm hand pushes him back gently, and Tyler's mother turns to him with a furious glint in her eye.

"It doesn't work like that Tyler, God doesn't just give favours to anyone and everyone. Yes he loves you Tyler, but praying _is not so he can fullfill your every dream_ " she had raised her voice slightly, having realised this, she cleared her throat slightly before breathing in deeply, "What did you wish?" she asks.

"To become the greatest basketball player in the world" He says.

With a look to her husband behind her, Tyler's mother grabs his arm calmy, "If you're going to do that, you're going to have to work to it" She says seriously, a tone he'd never quite heard from her as of yet present in her voice. Tyler jumps excitedly, hugging his mother close.

"Not so fast there Tyler" She whispers, "You doubted the Lord, you have to know that's bad" she rubs his back gently, before picking him up and taking him to the broom closet. With a kiss to his forehead, she tells him to go in.

"But mommy, it's dusty in there" he whispers back, she smiles at him lovingly, brushing his hair back and rubbing his cheek with her thumb.

"I'll have daddy clean it up later, but just this once, I want you to go in there. This is the first real punishment you're getting, you're a big boy now, a whole 7 years old"

Tyler was left in that closet for 3 hours straight, and by the end of it, he was kicking at the door and screaming to be left out, messy tears streaming down his face. His mother apologised over and over, saying they had gone to the grocery store and that they lost track of time, but Tyler never noticed how there weren't any grocery bags, and missed how his father would guiltily glance at the ground during his mother's explanation. After all, he had only just turned 7.

* * *

_10 Years Later_

When Tyler thought back to that incident, he figured that was the start of when everything went downhill. His parents worked him to the bone on that basketball thing, and after a while, Tyler lost interest, naturally. Kids change their minds all the time, first it's basketball, then it's astronaut, then it's wrestler. That's just how childrens minds worked, however, by the time Tyler had grown out of his basketball phase, his parents had already made him an excellent player, and the mini leagues coach had introduced them to the idea of a _scholarship_. And after that, it was bye-bye Tyler's dreams.

"It's for your own good Tyler" they'd say

"We can't pay for college, this is the only way"

"Don't you want a good future?"

Tyler didn't hate basketball, it's hard to hate something you're the best at, but he just didn't see himself playing it forever. He didn't want to be known as the guy who played basketball well. Of course, whenever these thoughts past Tyler's mind, he didn't dare voice them.

What did he do with all this pent up frustration? Nothing. His plan was to constantly be busy so as to distract himself from it. That's why he volunteers at the church as much as he can, and asks for extra work at school, that's why you never find him with nothing to do. Sometimes he's even thankful that his parents make him shoot 500 baskets a day.

It's also why he's so 'perfect', he knows that when he screws up he'll get the closet. He hates the closet. It's changed a lot since his first time, they've cleaned it out and added a cross to the wall, an uncomfortable chair and a light. The light however, has only one switch and it's on the outside, but it's rarely turnt off, luckily.

Sitting in silence for hours on end with a mind like Tyler's is slowly starving out his sanity, and his parents tell him to pray, to scream and beg for forgiveness, but Tyler never prays in the closet out of desperation, knowing he prays out loud, and doesn't want his parents hearing his personal messages to the He who both doomed him, yet saves him constantly.

Sometimes Tyler will bang on the door, yelling to be let out, because sometimes he just can't, but he doesn't want to anger his parents more, and so usually ignores the chair in favour of sobbing into his knees in the corner, or staring blankly at the door.

"So Tyler, big game coming up?" Comes the calm voice of his father. Tyler glances at him from the back of the car, before returning his gaze to the world moving so fast outside his window.

"Yes, sir" He answers bluntly, knee beginning to bounce anxiously. He was being driven to school, like every day, because his parents didn't him to be 'negatively influenced by any of those deliquents who took the bus', of course Tyler knew it was their nice way of saying they'd heard that there were a group of homosexuals who took the bus and they wanted him to steer clear. Which is what he did, to avoid trouble with his parents, he made sure to avoid the homosexuals as much as possible. Turning the other way in corridoors, avoiding eye contact and sitting as far away from them as possible in classes. He didn't want his parents hearing anything about him hanging out with the 'faggots'.

"I want you training hard okay, every game is important. You have to pretend every single one-"

"-is the most important one of my life, I know dad" Tyler finished for him, smiling at him in exasperation. His father smiled back warmly in the reer view mirror.

"Well, I think we're here. That'll be $9" He says jokingly.

"Oh my days, you're such a dad" Tyler shakes his head, laughing fondly.

In the halls, people wave at Tyler politely, some offering him high fives and short greetings. He smiles at them all, giving them the appropriate response in return, but everytime they turn away, his bright smile melts away easily.

"Tyler" He hears, and he turns to see a gorgeous blonde with striking blue eyes run towards him.

"Hey Jenna" He waits for her to catch up before they start walking together, occasionally brushing arms.

"It's been ages Ty, I've missed you" She pouts, Tyler laughs softly, rolling his eyes.

"Drop the act Jenna, we saw each other just yesterday at church" He and Jenna had been best friends since they were babies, having families who were very close. They shared bubbles baths and have slept in the same bed numerous times, and Tyler loved her unconditionally, as a friend. Unfortunately, everyone expects them to get together, to form some kind of power couple. The captain of the basketball team, with the head cheerleader. The pianist in the local church, with the lead choir singer. The handsome christian boy, with the beautiful christian girl. They sounded great, but when they looked at each other, all they saw was pure adoration, and neither of them saw any attraction whatsoever, nothing sexual anyway.

"Was that yesterday? Huh" She shrugged carelessly. They held hands, talking the entire time Tyler walked her to homeroom, missing the envious stares they were recieving in regards to their 'perfect relationship'.

"Kiss me goodbye Tyler" She fluttered her eyes in an exaggerated attempt at flirting, and he chuckled before giving her a soft kiss on her forehead. She kissed him on the cheek in return before entering the classroom.

" _That's_ how you kiss someone goodbye Mr Tyler Joseph?" Comes a voice to his left, and he glances down the hall at the very same group of people his parents had always disapproved of. Tyler wasn't sure of their names, but he was sure he recocgnised the one who talked as, Brandon?

His lips twitched down at the comment, but he refused to make a scene, and moved out of the way of the entry, opening the door for students. He briefly heard soft thank you's. Snickers could be heard from the group of... erm, rebels? but Tyler tried his hardest to pay them little attention, but that job got sugnificantly harder when they started walking towards him. They had never talked to him before, and so he was confused as to why they would start now.

"I could teach you if you want" The same boy as earlier bellowed loudly, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Tyler knew it was a joke, and so he thought little of it. For some reason, and Tyler had never done this before, he dared joke about something his family disapproved greatly of, and to the very same people who were supposedly doomed to burn in hell.

"Sure" He said confidently. The shocked expression he got in return had him smile in amusement, and he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing, "I'm kidding" he said.

They all chuckled, or at least snorted, and the boy, Brandon(?) downright let out a boisterous belly laugh, shaking his head and all.

"I didn't realise people like you had actual senses of humour" He says, Tyler tilts his head in question, "You know, idiot basketball players"

"Oh, well, my grades are fine" Tyler offers nervously, not sure where the conversation was headed. Actually, Tyler's grades were pretty near perfect, thank to his parents. Except for maths, the culprit of a lot of trips to the closet.

"I'm sure"

"Brendon, drop it" Oh so his name was Brendon, Tyler was close, he told himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure what's going on" He apologises, nodding to someone who greeted him as they passed the group. He missed the look of utter distaste they shot at said group.

"Oh, don't pretend you're all innocent Joseph" Another suddenly shot out angrily, pointing an accusaory finger at his chest, "You're as bad as the rest"

And with that they all left, one particular boy with bright yellow hair looked back to offer an apologetic look.

Well, that escalated quickly.

* * *

At the end of the day, Tyler walks out and waits in the parking lot for his dad to come pick him up. The boy with the yellow hair from earlier that day was texting idly on his phone a fair distance away. After a while he glances up and smiles at Tyler genuinely. Tyler smiles back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it.


	2. Why Do We Laugh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this would be Josh's POV, but I felt like writing this scene with his parents.

That morning, Tyler knew his parents had found out about his run-in with Brendon Urie and his friends. Everyone in this community was unbelievably chatty. They didn't make too big of a show of it, they didn't promise a lock in the closet when he got back after school, or even scolded him profusely with a smack at the back of his head liked he'd expected.

Which, okay, maybe Tyler had been a bit too worried about it. Him talking to those...kind of people was unusual behavior and he had no idea how they'd react. That being said, that morning when he walked into the kitchen it all seemed far too tense despite there being no change in the routine.

His mother was still pouring coffee into his father's mug, Jay sitting innocently in his chair nibbling on his toast, same as every morning, his father still had the newspaper open in front of him, the radio was still badly tuned into the same radio station that played the same songs every day.

It was the small details that made Tyler's anxiety spike; his mother wasn't humming softly as she scraped the left over eggs into the bin, his father wasn't turning the page in his newspaper, simply staring at the same paragraph without taking in the words, and worst of all they both refused to greet him that morning.

"Gud mowning Tywer" Comes Jay's voice, his mouth full of toast, short brown locks falling into his eyes as he waved

"Don't talk with your mouth full" Rang the voice of his father, voice hard, but eyes soft

Tyler bit his lip anxiously, running his hair through his slightly damp hair. Normally, his mother would make a comment on how he should fully dry it off using a hair dryer after his showers every morning, but today she stays silent, not even sparing him a glance. Hesitantly, he sits down at the table, and his other siblings came bounding in, sitting down also.

"Morning" He greets them all, cautious and unsure of what he should and shouldn't do. Maddy notices the change in atmosphere, only 11, but she was so damn smart, and her usual morning cheer fell from her face a little, before she smiled wider, faker, trying to pretend it was all normal.

She's terrible at fake smiling, Maddy had always been the girl to wear her heart on her sleeve, but it never stopped her from trying to hide said heart in her pocket,  too bad it had too many holes.

"Morning" She greeted with a voice far too high and chipper. Zach grumbled out what might've been a greeting.

Breakfast was slow and painful, filled with awkward, stilted conversations on Maddison's part, and nervous, shy silence from Tyler. Finally, after what felt like years of desperate conversation Maddie and Zach left, along with their mother holding Jay in her arms. Tyler was left alone with his father, and his heart dropped to his stomach as a sudden wave of panic washed over him. Absentmindedly, Tyler brings his thumb up to his mouth and begins to chew nervously.

"Stop that Tyler, it's a nasty habit" His dad chastises half heartedly. His eyes were kind, but the crease in between his eyebrows was never good news. Tyler worked up the courage to say something, bringing his hands away from his lips and deciding to play with them in his lap instead, his father tracked the movement.

"Did I do something wrong dad?" enquires Tyler

"No, not really" comes his answer, a gentle hand finds its place on his shoulder too, and Tyler leans into it naturally.

"Are you sure?" he whispers cautiously, pulling his eyes up to meet his fathers, who sighs tiredly in defeat.

"Of course I am" he assures, "If it's anyone's fault, it's ours; your mother and I. We should've  been stricter about it, we recognize that"

Stricter? About what? Tyler suddenly wasn't so sure they were talking about anymore, he had been sure it would be about his run-in with those homosexuals at school, and his parents had been fairly strict about their views on their lifestyle choice. Tyler remembers numerous times he had been reminded of their impurity and sinful nature, and how they were doomed to eternal damnation in hell. Tyler knew better than to question them on the matter, and just nodded robotically and giving the appropriate response when asked.

"We just thought you knew" his father continues, "But we never told you about the Duns, so who else would've told you?"

"Dad, I don't understand" Tyler interrupts, and he fought the itch to start chewing on his nails again.

"Do you remember the Dun family?" Tyler nods an affirmative, Mr and Mrs Dun came to church every Sunday and always made sure to praise Tyler's piano playing. He'd never seen them talk to anyone else however. "Well, the Duns have a son, who attended church just as often as them- Jorge was it?- you two didn't talk very often, but would've expected you to remember him. Anyway, the Dun boy started spending more and more time with that group of homosexuals, and eventually he started dying his hair, going around skateboarding, I heard he even caught the nasty disease!"

Tyler wouldn't go as far as to call homosexuality a disease, not that he was going to say that.

"I don't understand how this is relevant" Tyler's dad gives him an exasperated look, as if the point was obvious.

"Your mother and I heard you had been... talking to the group in the hallways, and we just wanted to set some boundaries"

"Boundaries?" Tyler turned his head in confusion, something his mother always said made him seem foolish

"Yes Tyler, we don't want you to end up like that Dun boy, that's why we forbid you from talking to any of those... delinquents"

The brunettes breath catches in his throat, as he stares at his father incredulously, but before he can silently fume any more, his father squeezes his shoulder once more, and this time Tyler has the sudden urge to shrug it off.

"We're only doing this because we love you Tyler"

* * *

 

 Tyler's dad ventures upstairs to fetch his keys, leaving his eldest son to ponder the situation privately.

What did he mean, they 'forbid'? What if it was for classwork? What if they started talking to _him_ , was he just supposed to ignore them? Why was this such a big deal? He wondered which boy in the group was Dun.

"Morning Tyler" he hears his mother, and he silently fumes at her greeting. She acted as if this was the first time she'd seen him this morning, although in reality she had ignored him barely 5 minutes prior.

"Morning" He bites out. She catches his tone, and they make eye contact before she gently brings her hands to his cheeks, tilting his head down slightly so she could reach his forehead, which she kissed gently.

"I'm sorry Tyler" She says warmly, "You know I love you very much".

His hands find themselves gently wrapped around her wrist, and he can't help but offer her a small smile.

"Time to go" the moment is ruined by his father, who has his shoes on and is grinning at them with an expression of nothing but pure adoration. Tyler figures they're not so bad, locking your kid in a closet, smacking him occasionally, ignoring him and working him to the bone isn't that bad, at least they care. At least they're not abusive, it could be worse, this isn't abuse, he assures himself.

Tyler laughs quietly to himself, because he needs the sound to help himself to believe he's fine. He's fine.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abusive parents aren't always obvious, they're not always horrible, and they may even believe they're doing it out of love.  
> Tyler's parent's abuse in this story are born out of religion, and no, I'm not dissing religion, I'm not claiming that religious parents are abusive. I'm not going to portray religion only negatively in this story; I'm planning to keep Tyler a Christian throughout the entire fic. I'm sorry this chapter may be a bit disappointing without Josh, or really much angst at all really. I really only wrote this chapter to establish more of a relationship between Tyler and his parents, and help you understand where they stand with each other. In case you're still confused, Tyler and his parents love each other very much, however Tyler may be a little afraid of them and way too submissive in fear of punishment, and Tyler's parents believe discipline is very important, and base most of the things Tyler is punished on with religion.


	3. Why Do We Feel Lonely?

When Josh came out to his parents, it was messy. So so messy.

It took weeks of coaxing from his new friends before he did it. The new friends he'd actively seeked out, hoping for comfort and assurance. You see, before Josh was friends with Brendon, Patrick and all the others, he was alone. Not physically alone, he had plenty of friends, but they were simply fillers of a public image, because once upon a time, Josh really cared about what his parents thought of him, and his old friends were what they approved of.

They weren't mean, they were fairly decent people to be around, but Josh didn't feel connected to them, it was all filled with awkward fake smiles and forced conversation, and Josh clung on to them desperately trying to be less alone. He was so alone.

Josh had known he was gay since he was 11, after Mike Ferchant had asked him for a kiss behind a school dumpster. When Josh and Mike hung out after that it was always with fleeting eye contact and red cheeks, sweaty hands connected in the forest behind Mark's house where no one could see them. They weren't idiots, and they knew it was wrong, but it felt so right they couldn't stop.

By 14 they were still going at it, except the kissing had turned much more violent and heated with wandering hands and heavy breathing. That is, until Mark suddenly stopped going to their normal meet up places in the forest, and at school ignored him in favour of joining the basketball team and hanging out with the 'cool crowd'.

Josh had never felt lonelier after that.

No one else knew he was gay, and Josh knew Mark wouldn't say anything, fearful Josh would out him also, even though Josh would never do that.

Josh eventually got sick of pretending to be happy with friends he'd never had fun with, and decided to go around town in search of new friends. He promised himself he'd talk to the first people he saw. I guess it was just fate that the next people he saw on the street was the young group of gays that were infamous around town.

Josh knew all too well what everyone thought of them, but he was so tired of hiding, he was tired of pretending to be something he wasn't to everyone else, tired of pretending he was like all those ignorant people at his church who took every word uttered out of a bishop's mouth as truth, tired of hiding his sexuality from everyone, just so impossibly tired.

He guesses that's why he crossed the road despite his crippling anxiety and walked right up to one of the teens with a hand out to shake.

"Hi, my name's Josh and I'm really fucking gay"

That was the first time he ever swore, and it felt really fucking great. After he said that though, he instantly realized what he'd said and his anxious personality came up again and his hand was about to come down sheepishly, before a firm hand was inside it, shaking it. The hand belonged to none other than Melanie Martinez, gap tooth present as she grinned uncontrollably.

"Welcome home Josh"

They accepted him easily after that, all of them, and Josh after years of having no one, was happy. Until he decided to come out to his parents.

So yes, as he'd mentioned before, it was a messy ordeal. Maybe that was Josh's fault for deciding to come out in the middle of his birthday. They had brought out his cake, and the entire family was there, grandparents, cousins and even neighbors, all huddled in the Dun's family home, where a large cake held 16 burning candles that sat flickering and hot.

They sang Happy Birthday, which Josh really didn't like,  as everyone's attention was on him. In fact, he really didn't like his birthday as a whole, but that didn't stop his parents from waking him up at six in the morning for birthday breakfast; the pancakes were good he had to admit.

Anyway, the moment they were all done singing, Josh closed his eyes and blew harshly, effectively blowing out the candles. Everyone clapped.

"What did you wish for honey?" His mother asked him, expecting the same answer everyone gave 'I can't tell you, or it won't come true' but the answer she got was very different.

"I wished my parents knew I was gay" Silence, pure silence.

The kind of silence that was worse than shouting, that deafened you worse than a bomb. Josh wanted the floor to swallow him up.

It didn't.

* * *

Everyone was sent home after that, no one spared Josh a glance. He went up to his room and just sat there, crying.

He would be alright.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

* * *

It was almost midnight, and Josh had just brushed his teeth to get to bed before he heard a tap on the window. Behind it was the slim figure of Brendon Urie, hanging on desperately trying not to fall. Josh's eyes widened and he let him in, followed by Melanie, Patrick, Pete, Ashley and Gerard. 

His room quickly became crowded but he could never have been more grateful for the company. 

 Not for the first time that day, Josh broke down crying and told them everything. How alone he'd felt before he met them, about Mark, about Mark leaving him and finally, about his parents ignoring him after he came out to his entire family in the middle of his birthday party. 

They all listened quietly (except for Brendon, who made a few inappropriate comments) and after he'd finished, Gerard and Ashley took off to go buy snacks, Patrick and Pete left to get the 'best-music-masterpieces-to-date'-whilst Melanie kept Josh company of course- and when they all came back, they spent the rest of the night eating cheap dollar snacks and listening to Patrick's mix-tapes.

Josh could never have asked for better friends. 

And when his parents opened the door to find their son laying amongst a hoard of sleeping teenagers, Josh didn't care that they shouted.

And when they refused to acknowledge him outside of maybe leaving him a plate for dinner, Josh didn't care that he couldn't eat with them.

And when they stopped inviting him to game nights and celebrations, Josh didn't care that he couldn't grow up with them anymore 

Josh didn't care because he wasn't lonely anymore 

* * *


	4. Why Do We Cry?

Tyler stared emptily down at his bedroom floor, it was 3am and all the lights in the house were off, aside from an ugly yellow glow from his desk lamp.  
If you looked close enough at Tyler's stone facade, you could see a small crack.  
He was conflicted.

Unsure.

Lost.

* * *

The crack of a thick book hitting against wood resounded around the empty white walls. Ink clearly pressed against hard leather held the title to what the Joseph's kept as a guide to life.

 ** _The Holy Bible_** it read

Tyler inhaled a shaky breath, unsure of what he was looking for despite his relentless determination.

With his eyes shut firmly, he opens at a random page.

He opens his eyes

And he reads.

Mark 2:31

**_The second is this: 'Love your neighbour  as yourself'. There is no commandment greater than this_ **

Tyler could feel the water in his mind begin to flood his eyes. He can feel it toeing at his ankle, the water's rising steadily.

He opens a different page.

Mathew 7:1

**_Do not judge, or you too will be judged_ **

He hears the hum of waves crashing begin to fill his ears. The water's reached his chest by now, it's pushing and prodding at his lungs. He can't take much more. Just once more.

Romans 13:8

**_Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. The commandments, "You shall not commit adultery", "You shall not murder", "You shall not steal", "You shall not covet", and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this once command: "Love your neighbor as yourself." Love does no harm to a neighbor._**

**Therefore _love is the fulfillment of the law._**

It's over his head now, he's collapsing. Tyler's drowning. He can't breath.

It's in his nose, his mouth, his chest, his head, his thoughts.

His parents were wrong, they were wrong. _They've never been wrong._

_They've always been wrong._

Before he fully registers what he's doing, Tyler's bare feet are stumbling down the stairs before he can stop them. He's in the kitchen now, and the cold breeze from the window does little to help the sweat.

He peels off his hoodie and holds onto the edge of the sink. The water is a lump in his stomach.

He retches.

"Tyler, honey, are you down here?" His mother's voice is close, croaky with sleep. Her hands find their way onto Tyler's damp forehead, her fingers chill against his flushed skin, "Goodness, sweetie, you're burning up"

"Would you leave me alone?" he wants to say, "please"

She doesn't seem to hear his internal pleas, and tugs at his arm.

"Chris! Chris, get down here, quick!" A liquid-acid builds at Tyler's throat, and he swallows it down.

"What's wrong Kelly?" Tyler's mouth opens in a silent gasp as the burning water creeps up again, he can't fight it down again.

"Oh dear" he hears his father whisper from the doorway before he's prying Tyler's white-knuckled grip from the sink. Someone's filling a glass, the familiar chink seeming like shovels scraping at his ear-drums.

He's guided to a seat where a plastic tub finds itself on his lap. It's a hideous green even after he fills it with stomach acid.

After he's dry of anything else to throw up, he continues to gag.

"Drink, drink Tyler" The glacial rim of a glass finds itself at Tyler's dry lips. The plastic tub is gone from his lap, and the odorless liquid under his nose may as well have been secreting a smoldering smoke with how it made his head dizzy.

He swallows the waters down his throat anyway, it comes right back up.

Tyler scrambles back to the sink instead of attempting to push it back down. He slides down the counter to sit on the floor after he's done.

From his position on the floor, he can only see their feet. Spotlights on the ceiling reflect elongated shadows on the polished  floor of the kitchen. Someone must've turned the light on at some point.

His mother crouches down and he's shocked to see the genuine warmness in her eyes. He didn't know what he was expecting, devilish red eyes or just any hint of malice, but the kind eyes seem to reassure him that his parents weren't all that bad. Either that or Tyler can't know who to trust anymore.

He feels like he's betrayed them; gone behind their back to feed his own, selfish curiosity. On the other hand, he feels completely betrayed himself.

All his life, they've been telling him that 'God hated faggots' and therefore, Tyler should hate them too. He's been coiled into their web of lies like a fly, ready to be eaten into the false conspiracies they've fed themselves.

That's why he's absolutely devastated. He feels horrible for admitting, but he wanted them to be right, he wanted to be wrong about pitying the homosexuals, he wanted his parents to be right. He wanted to justify their actions, wanted to believe the things they've been feeding him ever since birth.

He wanted to open the book, and he wanted to see it printed all over the ivory paper. He'd read the Bible before, read it all, over and over and over, but he wanted it to be different, he had wanted it their on the page.

**'God hates faggots'**

**'God _hates_ faggots'**

**'God hates faggots, so therefore you should too'**

**'God wants parents to lock their children in closets and repeat to them over and over through the lock that faggots are dirty, faggots are doomed for hell, they are, they are, _they are'_**

But it wasn't there, it was never there and now Tyler's can't hate homosexuals for his religion, he has to hate them for his parents. He doesn't want to.

He's _never_ wanted to.

He hates his family.

_He hates them._

But then his mother's arms are wrapped around his shoulders and she's whispering sweet nothing's into his ears, her cheek damp against his face. His father's emptying the tub of Tyler's vomit into the sink and assuring him that it's okay, he doesn't mind.

Tyler returns the hug and his mother's body is warm. A spark of comfort surprises him as it twists in his gut, a small tear of frustration trickling down his cheek as he continues to be embraced by one of the people who've been lying to him for far too long.

He loves his family.

_He loves them._

For a brief moment, Tyler remembers why he'd panicked himself into sickness, and his mind wanders to the inevitable decision he's bound to have to make; does he go against his family, does he follow his own morals now that the excuse of religion doesn't restrict him? or does he continue to pretend he believes their deceit, break his moral compass with the same hands he used once to hold his mother's hands crossing the road, and build a birdhouse with his father?

Before he can continue to think himself into a coma, a second pair of arms finds itself wrapped around him. Part of him, the good part, screams at him to push them away, scream at them, accuse them of stealing his mind and twisting it into something unrecognizable, the other part, although you can never be sure whether it's bad, is telling him to hold them close, thank them for caring enough to keep him in line, for wanting to save him from hell, even though they were doing the opposite.

In the end, just for that moment at least, the good part of him bows to the little boy who just wants to be loved.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not Christian, if that's what you got out of this, but I was raised into a religion (a different one, I won't clarify which) and had my own religious doubts, and continue to have them. Don't spread hate on this because you think I'm promoting Christianity, or making it seem any better than it is; that isn't my intention. Obviously, I have no real experience with Christianity specifically, rather just religious pressure and doubts as a whole.  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if it's terrible btw. I'd appreciate a comment, they always make my day :D


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